


Chat Noir's Sing-Along Blog

by becklemania



Category: Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien-centric, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe- Not Set in Paris, Alternate Universe- Set in Los Angeles, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Buckle in kiddos, Chat Noir is Evil, Dr. Horrible AU, Dr. Horrible Crossover, Established Adrien Agreste & Marinette Dupain-Cheng, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gabriel Agreste's A+ Parenting, Hawk Moth is Gabriel Agreste, Humor, Ladybug and Chat Noir are not partners, Ladybug is Captain Hammer, Marinette is less of a mess around Adrien, Prior Dr. Horrible Knowledge Recommended but not Totally Necessary?, Tags May Change, The Hammer is NOT her penis, as friends, but not really, does that mean the yo-yo is her-, it's gonna be LIT, more tags to be added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-05-24 11:19:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14953688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becklemania/pseuds/becklemania
Summary: Miraculous Ladybug/ Dr. Horrible Crossover FicAdrien Agreste will do anything make his father proud.Even if it means being evil.Even if he hates himself for it in the end.





	1. Noir Theme

**Author's Note:**

> what's up kids. it's my second published fic. yippee ki yay mofos  
> This is a Miraculous Ladybug/Dr. Horrible crossover in that the plot was very heavily inspired by the events of Dr. Horrible, but I'm about 74% sure you don't need to have seen it to be able to read this. Does that make it a fusion instead of a crossover? Probably, but I'm not about to change anything.  
> The chapter titles are all either directly taken or slightly edited song titles from Dr. Horrible. The whole thing is available on YouTube and the soundtrack is on Spotify if you're interested in listening to the songs.  
> This first chapter is really more a of a “prologue,” but idk if ao3 will let me have a prologue with a multi chapter fic so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> hope y'all enjoy, i'm still writing it so the tags may be subject to change, keep an eye out folks and folkarinos

If you were to ask Adrien Agreste, he would tell you he isn’t cut out to be a villain.

 _Powers or no powers_ , he’d say, _I just don’t like being mean to people._

Adrien’s father is a different story.

Gabriel Agreste is a stoic fashion designer, famous not only for his breathtaking designs, but also for his noteworthy track record of sizable donations to various charities and funds meant to better society as a whole. He’s established countless homeless shelters and rehabilitation projects, contributed to organizations for the protection of wildlife, and once even spent a whole month donating to every GoFundMe his assistant pointed him to that had been created to help someone with their hospital bills. He’s known the world over for doing everything in his power to help those in need.

At least, most of the time.

The rest of the time, he’s known as Hawkmoth, the scourge of the law abiding public and the infamous leader of the Evil League of Evil.

When he’s not busy helping society, Gabriel Agreste is doing everything he can to force it to its knees. With the truly terrifying power of mind control at his disposal, Hawkmoth quickly rose through the ranks of the most notable villains of all time, including the likes of Stormy Weather and the Orange Menace. He formed the Evil League of Evil, a group of truly sadistic people doing truly heinous things, and together they commit unspeakable acts for their own general amusement.

If you were to ask Gabriel Agreste, a.k.a. Hawkmoth, for his opinion on whether or not Adrien could be evil, he’d say exactly ten words to you.

_Of course he can be evil. Like father, like son._


	2. My Freeze Ray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _With my freeze ray, I will stop_   
>  _The pain_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: Dr. Horrible takes place in Los Angeles, Miraculous takes place in France. This fanfiction is set in Los Angeles. However, I don't actually know any street names in Los Angeles. So all the street names are COMPLETELY made up and I'm not sorry. I mean, I am, but not enough to change it.  
> EDIT 9/3/18: You know what? I'll say it. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE ABOUT BIG CITY LIFE. There, I said it. I'm a small town girl, folks. I don't fuckin know how L.A. works. So I TAKE IT BACK! I don't know WHERE it's set, okay? Just not France. Suspend your disbelief. And if you live in L.A, fuckin, just, suspend your disbelief REALLY hard. Okay? Okay. Update, uhhhhh...soon, hopefully. That's all, thank you, come again

Adrien knocked gently on the door to Nino’s room. When he received no response, he cracked the door open just wide enough for him to stick his head in and peered cautiously around.

“Nino?” He addressed the lump under the sheets. “I’m heading to the laundromat, where are your dirty- _uhf!_ ”

The pillow Nino had lobbed at his face flopped sadly to the floor as his roommate stuck his head out from under the covers.

“Dude, _shut up_ ,” Nino croaked. “I just got to sleep, like, two hours ago. Juleka roped me into clean-up at the club and I didn’t get to leave until six.”

Adrien winced in sympathy. He leaned down and grabbed the pillow when Nino made grabby hands at it and tossed it back onto the bed.

“Sorry, Nino,” he said, “I’ll just grab your laundry and you can go back to sleep.” By the time he’d finished speaking, his roommate had already shoved his face back into the pillow and started to re-bury himself in the sheets.

“Hamper by the door,” came his muffled response. “G’night, Adrien.”

Adrien stepped further into the room, grabbed the hamper, and slunk back out, throwing a quiet “Night, Nino,” over his shoulder as he went. He carried it back to his room, where he dumped Nino’s clothes into his laundry bag and placed the empty hamper against the wall in the hallway so he wouldn’t forget to return it. That done, he grabbed his wallet, phone, and keys, scowling when he realized he was already ten minutes late. He hefted the laundry bag over his shoulder and set out, determined not to miss out on his favorite part of laundry day.

Their apartment was only a couple blocks away, so it took around five minutes to get there on foot. He’d been walking for about three when he spotted her out of the corner of his eye.

Across the street from him, a black haired woman weaved carefully through the other pedestrians around her. As he watched her in his periphery, she paused in her purposeful strides, swayed for a few seconds, and then continued marching onward. He pulled out his phone and pretended to check a notification, stopping in his tracks and moving aside to avoid blocking the sidewalk, and saw her stop as well. When he put his phone away and started forward again, so did she.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, “not this again.” He spotted an alleyway coming up ahead of him and resisted the urge to groan aloud. He _hated_ acknowledging them, but if he didn’t address it now, the woman would follow him all the way to the laundromat. The thought of _him_ meeting _her_ made Adrien sick to his stomach.

When he reached the mouth of the alleyway, he stopped. He turned and made direct eye contact with the woman following him and felt a sick sense of satisfaction when her unblinking eyes confirmed his suspicions. He watched her for a few seconds, then ducked into the alleyway behind him to wait.

Sure enough, the woman followed him into the narrow alley not long after. Adrien was relieved to notice that her eyes were brown, not bright, piercing blue. Her black hair was already forcing him to make some uncomfortable comparisons, and the idea of _her_ being under Hawkmoth’s control made something squeeze tight in his chest.

He shifted on his feet and forced himself not to look chastened when the woman straightened up and clasped her hands behind her back, her posture adapting as his father took firmer control of her.

“Adrien,” the woman said. “Have you been thinking about what I told you?”

“Yes, Hawkmoth,” he answered automatically. The temptation to fidget increased as he swung the laundry bag off of his shoulder and placed it on a relatively clean section of concrete. “I’ve been thinking about it. I just…” He looked down at his feet, his Agreste brand sneakers seeming to taunt him as he searched for the words. “I don’t think the League is going to want me.”

“And whose fault is that?” Hawkmoth reprimanded coldly. “With your power, you could have anything you desire. You’re wasting your gift, _Chat Noir_.” Adrien couldn’t help but flinch at the disdainful use of his villainous moniker. The woman remained unfazed at his show of emotion, continuing on in that same flat voice.

“I want you to submit an application. I will make sure your gift receives the consideration it deserves, but you will not fail me again.” She took a step forward, and Adrien reluctantly lifted his head to meet her gaze head-on. “The League will want proof that you’re willing to do what is necessary.” She narrowed her eyes at him, tilting her head to the side, as Hawkmoth delivered his final blow.

“Are you going to disappoint me again, Adrien?”

Adrien stiffened as a horrible sense of shame washed over him. “No, sir,” he replied, his voice weak and thready. Hawkmoth didn’t smile, merely swept the woman’s gaze over Adrien and nodded curtly.

“Good,” He said. “I will contact you again in a few days. I have something I want stolen, and you’re going to do it for me. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Adrien said, his voice barely stronger than it was before. Hawkmoth nodded once more and the woman turned to leave. As she did, her ponytail shifted, allowing Adrien to catch a glimpse of the familiar shape stamped at the base of her neck.

A purple butterfly.

He watched in silence as the shape slowly peeled itself from the woman’s skin, morphing into a real butterfly and taking wing, presumably back towards the Agreste mansion. The woman froze the second the butterfly had taken flight, shaking her head as if coming out of a trance. She spun around, taking in her surroundings with nothing short of panic in her eyes.

“W-where-?” She gasped. The fear in her voice spurred Adrien into action.

“Hey, miss?” He called softly, slowly approaching her. She jumped at his voice and focused on him with wide eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t…” She started, her confusion obvious, “I don’t know where I am. Who are you? What…” Her eyes skipped past him and landed on the discarded laundry bag. She blinked in surprise, momentarily distracted from her distress. “Is that someone’s laundry?”

Adrien held both his hands out in a placating gesture. “My name is Adrien. I was on my way to the laundromat and I saw you turn down this alleyway,” he offered. The lies came smoothly to him now after so much time spent calming people down in Hawkmoth’s wake. “You looked really upset, and I wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ve been trying to get your attention for a couple minutes.”

She furrowed her brow, trying to process. “You have? I don’t...I don’t remember anything.”

“That’s okay,” he soothed her. “You didn’t do anything wrong, you’ve just been standing in this alley for a while. We’re on Spring Street, and the laundromat I was headed to is on Pine. What’s the last thing you remember?”

She took a deep breath, visibly struggling to get her bearings. Adrien waited patiently as she chewed on her lower lip.

“I was…” She started. “I was heading out to get groceries, I think. And I was walking down Spring.” She met Adrien’s eyes, her confusion evident. “We’re still on Spring?”

He nodded in confirmation. She jumped again when the sound of something vibrating buzzed through the alleyway.

“My phone!” She gasped. She had it out in a flash, blinking down at the time displayed with something like relief in her eyes. “It’s 9:45,” she said as she looked back up at Adrien. “The last time I checked it was 9:40.”

“So you’ve only lost five minutes,” Adrien confirmed. “At least three of those you spent just standing here, so for the other two you probably just kept walking down the street.”

In reality, she’d spent three minutes following him, and two of them reprimanding him as his literal supervillain of a father, but telling her that would be exactly twenty different kinds of bad idea. The woman nodded shakily at Adrien’s explanation and shuffled her feet, glancing back to the mouth of the alleyway.

“Are you going to be okay?” Adrien asked delicately. She took another deep breath and met his gaze steadily.

“I think I will, Adrien. Thank you for helping me.” Without warning, she stepped forward and threw her arms around him in a firm embrace. He stiffened up in surprise, and before he could react, she’d let him go and stepped away again.

“You seem like a really good guy. Thank you again,” She reiterated, and then she turned and strode out of the alley.

“You’re...welcome,” He finally said, dazed by the unexpected physical contact. He shook his head once to clear it, returned to his laundry bag, and heaved it back up onto his shoulder.

“Mind control,” He muttered as he exited the alley, determined to make it to the laundromat without further interruptions. “He _had_ to have mind control.”

* * *

 

Marinette was at the dryers when Adrien finally made it to the laundromat. She glanced up when he came in, and once she’d spotted him, it only took three seconds for her face to flush a light pink.

“Every time,” he murmured to himself before flashing a grin at Marinette. She grinned back in response and he watched the blush tick over to a slightly darker pink.

He followed her gaze as she purposefully turned to look at the bag from the frozen yogurt place sitting on her usual washer, the one right next to Adrien’s. She raised her eyebrows at him and he felt his own cheeks begin to heat in response.

“Sorry,” he offered sheepishly. He huffed quietly as he finally set his laundry down on the machine. He checked that it was empty, then started tossing clothes in as he heard one of the dryer doors close across from him.

“What took you so long?” Marinette asked as she came to lean against the washer next to him. “I don’t think you’ve been more than two minutes late in all the time we’ve been coming here, let alone an entire _eighteen_ minutes late.” She hopped up to sit cross-legged on the washing machine and reached into the yogurt bag. “I was almost afraid you wouldn’t show,” she added offhandedly.

“Ha, yeah,” Adrien laughed nervously, keeping his eyes trained on the clothes he was shoving into the machine. “I just got, uh, caught up in something. Lost track of time.”

Adrien could feel himself acting suspiciously, but he couldn’t make himself stop. The expected but still unpleasant altercation with his father, followed by the _un_ expected gratitude of the woman he’d possessed, had thrown him horribly off kilter. He’d already been ten minutes late _before_ Hawkmoth had showed up, but he still felt as if he’d been caught out. He focused on his laundry and tried not to think about the girl sitting mere inches away.

Said girl was quiet for a moment. Adrien jumped when her hand came to rest over his, effectively halting his anxious movements. He looked up as she ducked her head down to catch his eyes.

“Hey,” Marinette said gently, “are you okay?” Her unintentional echo of his previous question and the tenderness in her eyes caught him abruptly off-guard. He looked at her for a moment as she studied him in return, then cleared his throat as she smiled at him. He could feel himself flushing all the way down his neck.

“Yeah,” he finally said, “yeah, Marinette, I’m fine.” He offered her a shaky but sincere smile. “Just some family stuff.” When her brow furrowed in response, he dropped his gaze back to her hand on his. She reluctantly pulled it away, allowing him to pour in detergent and start the washing machine.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She watched him silently, waiting for him to turn and meet her eyes again before she asked, “Do you want to talk about it?” Adrien shrugged and hopped up to sit next to her.

“It’s just…” He started. Marinette passed over his yogurt and he smiled with relief at having something to do with his hands. “Thank you,” he breathed, then launched into his explanation.

“My father really wants me to join his business. He’s been trying to get me to work with him ever since I was old enough to leave home. That was actually one of the conditions when I moved out, that I could only leave if I started working with him.” Adrien stabbed his spork into his yogurt with more violence than was necessary. “I started freelancing after I got my own place, but I still haven’t sent in my application to work at his business. He’s convinced that if I’m not working with him, I’m being ‘wasted.’ He thinks I have this ‘natural talent’ for it, like I was _born_ to be-”

“A model,” Marinette finished, seemingly unaware of it. Adrien paused, momentarily confused. When he turned to look at her, he was surprised to see her flushing red with wide eyes.

“What?” He asked her.

“I mean!” She squeaked. “That’s just! That is. I just. You don’t seem like you design, that is, so I just-- I mean you’re so handsome, so I thought, you know, modelling, um--”

It took a second, but Adrien abruptly realized what she was referring to as she continued to ramble. She thought he meant Gabriel Agreste’s fashion empire, not Hawkmoth’s legacy of evil. She’d unknowingly provided him with the perfect excuse.

“Exactly!” He blurted, causing Marinette to snap her mouth shut with an audible click. “He thinks I was _born_ to be this perfect example of his specific brand of evi- clothing. Clothing. And I want to make him proud, that’s all I’ve ever wanted! But I just don’t think I’m cut out for this whole...modelling thing.” He turned to look at her, struck with the sudden feeling that he just _had_ to hear her answer.

“Marinette,” he said gravely, “what do you think I should do?”

Marinette chewed on her lip, her eyes on the spoon she was slowly stirring her yogurt with.

“I think…” she said slowly. She met his eyes again, her mouth set in a determined line.

“I think that the most important thing is that you do whatever makes you happy, Adrien,” She told him firmly. “If that means not modelling, then don’t model. If modelling makes you happy, then go for it.”

He was quiet for a moment.

"My Father's approval would make me happy,” He said, looking at Marinette with desperation in his eyes. “I have to do this if I want him to be proud, don’t I?”

She shook her head, not understanding the real fear she could hear in his voice. “Adrien, you’re starting to worry me,” she said cautiously. “Seriously, what’s going on? Why is this modelling thing scaring you so much?” She put down her yogurt and reached out, pulling one of his hands off of his cup to clutch with both of hers. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

This time, when Adrien met her eyes, he could _feel_ himself wavering. He saw the dedication, the genuine worry floating in her shockingly blue irises, and a small image of himself reflected back at him, and he legitimately considered spilling everything to her. His father, his powers, the pressure he’d been under every since his mother--

_You can never tell anyone what you are, Adrien. What we are._

His father, standing at the top of the stairs and looking down at him with hollow eyes.

_This is what happens when people find out._

Just like that, the moment was broken. He looked at Marinette and saw her fear, her anger, he saw her walking out of the laundromat and never returning, and he kept his mouth shut about his powers. But he couldn’t resist completely in the face of Marinette’s intense concern for his well being. He had to tell her _something_.

“Models have to be ruthless, Marinette, and sometimes even cruel.” He watched as she studied him, trying to find something, anything, that could assuage his fear. “If I do what my Father wants me to do…”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same again.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all...writing takes so long...this took me like all day to write wtf.......  
> also @ao3 yeah if you could stop putting weird spaces around my italics that would be gr8  
> Edit: I FIGURED OUT HOW TO FIX THE WEIRD SPACES, B L E S S


	3. Caring Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Only have to sign your name,_   
>  _Don't even have to read it_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you ever notice how I never promised an upload schedule? hm  
> I added something to the notes on the previous chapter that applies to the whole fic so maybe go read that first  
> anyway here's ~~wonderwall~~ the third chapter hHA

Three days after his and Marinette’s conversation at the laundromat, Chat Noir received his instructions from a UPS driver.

“There’s going to be an armored truck carrying gold bars leaving the bank on Janice street tomorrow,” the dead-eyed postage worker had said. “An easy job for someone with your talents.” He shoved a parcel into Adrien’s hands without any warning and Adrien almost fumbled it right onto the hallway floor.

“Your new bell and the route plans. The bell should take care of your pest problem.” The UPS man leaned forward and made aggressive eye contact with Adrien as he said, in the same flat monotone, “Do not fail me again.”

With his message delivered, Hawkmoth released his hold. The man’s shirt collar shifted as Hawkmoth’s evil butterfly of doom peeled free and took flight.

“Great,” Adrien said to himself once he’d successfully ushered the disoriented UPS man away. “More robbery. This’ll be fun.”

* * *

“This is not fun. This is not fun at all.”

Chat Noir huddled in an alleyway, his tail flicking back and forth in agitation. He had the settings on his ears turned up to max and he could still barely hear the voices of the truck drivers over the sounds of the people and cars all around him.

“Go rob an armored truck, he said. It leaves from the bank on Janice tomorrow, he said. You know what he _didn’t_ say? What _fucking time_ the truck would be leaving.”

The stray black cat currently sharing the alley with Chat Noir continued to look unimpressed by his increasingly colorful vocabulary.

“And it’s not like I can just _text_ him, either,” he continued to rant. “Can you imagine? _Hey, Hawkmoth, also known as Gabriel Agreste, my ever so lovely Father, what time was I supposed to be robbing that armored truck again? You know, the one with the gold bars? This is your son, Adrien, by the way. The one who doubles as the masked villain Chat Noir._ ” Adrien shook his head in exasperation. “He’d kill me. He’d actually, literally kill me.” He turned to look at the stray, who’d started grooming itself at some point during his little tirade.

“You know, you’re remarkably calm about this,” he addressed it, “considering I’ve been hogging your alley for going on five hours, now.” He’d realized as he was going to sleep that he had no clue when the actual robbery was meant to take place and panicked, grabbing the duffel with his uniform and practically sprinting out the door. He’d definitely said something in response to Nino’s incredulous questions as he passed him in the hall, but he’d be damned if he could recall what. That had been around 5 a.m.

“I totally understand if you want me to pay rent or something,” He offered, well aware that the sleep deprivation had gone into full effect about two hours ago. “Since I’ve been basically squatting in your house all night. I might have to pay you in gold, though. If the _fucking truck ever leaves._ ”

He could be mistaken, but Chat Noir was about 80% certain that cat had just rolled its eyes at him. “Oh, don’t look at me like that,” He scolded it. “Like you could have planned this any better.”

The cat finished grooming itself, stretched, and finally curled back up on the flattened cardboard box it had been sleeping on when Chat had arrived. He envied it.

“This is the worst,” he muttered, adjusting the strap of his duffel where it rested over his chest. “The literal worst. The only thing that could make this even more difficult would be if, like, if Ladybug just--”

A throat cleared behind him.

The noise that Chat made was remarkably close to the panicked howl of an actual cat as he spun around, calling his power to him on instinct. He crouched in a defensive position, teeth bared, and faced the intruder.

Ladybug stood a few feet further into the alley, her eyes wide and shock visible clear as day on her masked face. Her yoyo came to a clumsy stop from where she’d been rhythmically swinging it in circles as her surprise stilled her movements. Something was growling quietly.

“Chat?” Ladybug said cautiously. “Are...you okay?”

Chat blinked at her. They stared at each other in silence. He realized he was the one growling at her. The stray cat calmly stood and left the alleyway.

He coughed, once, and straightened up abruptly. “Uhhh, yes! Yep. Totally fine. What, uh, what are, how did-” He clamped his mouth shut, took a deep breath, and started again. “Why are you. Here?”

Ladybug continued to watch him with concern. “The police got a call about someone with a duffel bag squatting in an alleyway,” she said somewhat distractedly, watching his claws slide back into his gloves as his power dispersed, “and the caller specified that it might have been a furry, so they called me-- seriously, are you okay?”

Chat narrowed his eyes at Ladybug, confused beyond belief. “Back up, hold on, wait. They specified it was a _what_ now?”

Ladybug rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, don’t give me that. You know what a furry is.”

“Of course I know what a furry is!” Chat exclaimed. “I wasn’t asking for clarification, I’m offended! _Incredibly_ offended!” He gestured at his suit, “This thing is for business, not pleasure!”

Ladybug crossed her arms. “I didn’t peg you as the type to kinkshame, Chat. Besides, it was a perfectly reasonable assumption. You can’t deny that you’re dressed up as an animal. _Like a furry._ ”

“I wasn’t _kinkshaming_ , I’m offended that they think I would be using such a _shitty fursui_ \--” Chat cut himself off abruptly as he picked up the faint noise of a truck starting. _The_ truck. “Oh, shit,” he breathed.

“Chat?” Ladybug was looking at him with suspicion. “What is it?”

He kept his head tilted slightly toward the street to follow the movement of the truck as he slowly reached up toward the bell around his neck. “Uhhhh, not much, you know, just- just stuff.”

“Chat,” Ladybug said again, her narrowed eyes trained on his face and not where he was fiddling nervously with his bell. “What is that bag for?”

He forced a laugh as the truck trundled down the road, slowly getting closer to the alley. “My gym bag? I assure you, my Lady, all it holds is clothing. There’s nothing ne- _fur_ -ious going on here.”

“What are you listening to?” Ladybug asked, noticing the way his eyes remained unfocused. He unclipped the bell from his zipper as she slipped into a defensive stance. “Why have you been hiding out here all night?”

“I was just _chat_ -ting with my new feline _fur-_ iend, my Lady, no reason to give me the _purr-_ d degree.” Chat waggled his eyebrows at her as Ladybug’s grip tightened on her yo-yo.

“Now I _know_ something’s up, you’re using bad puns again,” She murmured. Chat mock-gasped, bringing his free hand to his chest and closer to the bell he was still pretending to fiddle with.

“I’ll have you know, my puns are the _cat’s meow_ , thank you very much.”

The truck was almost in position. Ladybug’s eyes dropped down, focusing on the bell. Chat was out of time.

“Actually, I _have_ been planning something,” he said loudly. Ladybug’s eyes snapped back up to meet his. “And that something is-” With a sharp twist, he yanked the clasp out of the top of the bell and tossed it at her. “Catch!”

He didn’t stick around to see it go off. Chat turned and darted into the street. Just as he leapt onto the back of the truck, there was a flash of light and an ear-piercing bang as the stun grenade detonated. He gasped and staggered as the noise hit him, hurriedly dissolving the locking mechanism on the doors and slipping inside the truck. The second he was in, he reached up and clawed at the sensor behind his ear, momentarily forgetting about his shiny metal appendages. His extended claws severed the wire and he breathed a sigh of relief as the extrasensory input ceased.

“Well, that sucked,” He muttered to himself, rubbing futilely at his fleshy, human ears. “Catch me turning up the volume again, damn.”

He turned and surveyed the gold bars piled up behind him. He counted fourteen, the same amount Hawkmoth had cited on the paperwork he’d provided.

“All that info, and no starting time,” He sighed. “The things you overlook when you’re the leader of an evil empire.”

He swung his duffel off of his shoulder and started shifting the bars around, loading half into his bag and moving the rest against the wall to clear a space on the floor for him to make his daring escape. The truck traveled on, the drivers none the wiser as Chat carefully traced a tiny circle on the wall, dissolving a neat hole just big enough for him to see out of as the truck neared his escape point.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Chat congratulated himself, carefully counting the passing side streets and noting the lack of other cars as the truck took a specialized route away from traffic. “I thought for sure she’d manage to-”

There was a loud thump as someone landed on top of the truck.

Chat closed his eyes. “God... _damn_ it.”

He was thrown sideways as the truck screeched to a halt, ending up sprawled on the floor where he’d cleared the gold bars away. He froze up as Ladybug started to move, her footsteps passing over him as she made her way to the driver’s compartment and dropped back down onto the street.

“Hello, gentlemen,” Her voice drifted through the hole in the wall. “I’m afraid I’m going to need you to open up your truck, please.”

“I’m sorry, Ladybug, I really can’t do that,” He heard the driver answer. “We’re not supposed to crack this baby open until we reach our destination, not even for a superhero.”

“You don’t understand, I think Chat Noir is trying to steal whatever you’ve got in there.” Chat could hear that Ladybug was trying to stifle her irritation. He carefully picked himself up, knowing that his only chance to escape would be while Ladybug was distracted by arguing with the driver. He peeked out of his spy hole and checked the side street they’d stopped near.

“Close enough,” He whispered to himself. He crept back to the clear spot and started to dissolve it away. He let Ladybug’s voice fade into the background as he slowly slipped his bag back onto his shoulder, holding his breath as the bars settled against his back. He moved over to his newly formed escape hatch and quietly lowered himself through it, crouching on the asphalt with half of his body still inside the truck.

“You can either open the truck for me or I’ll do it myself,” He heard Ladybug say. He crouched down lower and peered under the truck to catch a glimpse of her feet, standing beside the driver’s side door.

“Look, Lady, I don’t care _what_ kind of fancy-schmancy powers you’ve got, we can’t open the goddamn truck!”

“ _Fine_ ,” Ladybug snapped. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

 _Oh, shit, she’s pissed_. Chat thought. _That’s...kinda hot. Fuck, wait, not the time_ -

Ladybug stomped around the side of the truck, heading for the back doors. The driver yelped and scrambled out of the van to follow her, as did the second guard in the passenger seat. Chat spotted his chance and dropped belly-down onto the asphalt, army-crawling as silently as possible under the front of the truck as Ladybug wrapped her yo-yo around the handles and the guards tried desperately to talk her out of it.

“Ladybug, stop! You can’t do this, you’re _breaking the law-_ ”

“Please, we’re gonna lose our jobs!” The second guard pleaded with her.

“I am _not_ letting Chat _fucking_ Noir get away with a robbery just because _you two_ won’t listen to me!” Ladybug hissed. Chat popped up in front of the truck just as Ladybug yanked hard on the doors. He couldn’t help but wince as they came flying open, already unlocked, and Ladybug fell flat on her back with a solid _oof_.

“What the fuck!” The first guard yelled.

“We’re _so_ fired!” The second guard added.

“ _Hhhhhhhh-_ ” Ladybug wheezed, unable to speak after having the breath knocked out of her.

“Time to go,” Chat whispered, and sprinted full tilt towards the side street that would lead him around to the escape route he’d scoped out ahead of time.

“Ladybug! There he goes! That’s Chat Noir!” The first guard screeched, pointing wildly at Chat as he booked it away from them. Ladybug, who was still trying desperately to relearn what breathing felt like, did not respond.

“Taze him! Taze him!” The first guard chanted. The second guard fumbled at his belt for the taser he’d been issued, the one that looked remarkably like the perfectly functional taser clipped to the first guard’s belt. The first guard, who didn’t appear to notice the similarities, continued to screech uselessly.

“He’s getting away!” The guard bellowed as Chat skidded around a corner and out of sight. He whirled on his partner. “ _Why didn’t you-!”_

The second guard, who had at last retrieved his weapon, panicked immediately as his superior turned to him veritably frothing at the mouth. He instinctively closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger.

Ladybug, having finally caught her breath, sat up and studied the twitching guard on the ground next to her. She turned and looked at the second guard, holding the taser and watching his superior with an open mouth and horror-filled eyes.

“ _I’m so fired,_ ” he breathed.

“You and me both, buddy,” Ladybug agreed.

* * *

Adrien stumbled into his apartment, remembering at the last second to shut the door quietly behind him. He was back in his civilian clothes, his suit now haphazardly shoved inside of his duffel with the gold bars Hawkmoth would be sending someone to collect sometime later.

“Adrien? Is that you?” Nino’s voice drifted out of his bedroom.

“Yeah!” Adrien called back. “Wait, aren’t you- shouldn’t you be sleep? Asleep?” He blinked slowly, squinting down at his hands. “...Sleeping? I’m tired.”

“Normally, I would be,” Nino said, his voice much louder now. Adrien looked up to find him leaning against the wall, watching him with concern. “But my best friend ran past me on my way home from work and gave me no explanation for leaving _or_ time when he’d be back, so I had a little bit of trouble getting to sleep.”

Adrien winced at his statement, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact. “Oh, right. Sorry.”

“Dude, you don’t need to apologize,” Nino replied. Adrien’s head snapped up and the confusion was clear in his eyes as Nino continued, “I’m not mad at you. You’re an adult, you don’t need to explain yourself to me.”

Adrien furrowed his brows in confusion. “Then why…?”

Nino crossed the room and pulled Adrien into an abrupt hug, causing him to startle. After a second, Adrien melted into it, hugging Nino back and trying not to lean on him too heavily as the exhaustion hit him all at once.

“Dude, you scared the _shit_ out of me,” Nino said, squeezing Adrien a touch harder. “You ran past me with your gym bag and said something about how you were _so fucked_ , and then you left your phone at home, too, so I couldn’t get ahold of you, and it’s been _six hours_ -”

Adrien resisted the urge to groan when he heard what he’d said. Stupid sleep deprived brain, scaring Nino like an idiot. “Shit, Nino, I’m really sorry, I just stayed up super late and then I forgot a bunch of stuff at the gym and I was afraid someone was going to steal it, and then I decided to just work out because I was already there. I didn’t even realize I’d left my phone, man, I’m honestly so sorry.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Nino said as he stepped away, holding Adrien at arm’s length. “Or as okay as you can be, I guess- dude, you look like shit.”

Adrien laughed nervously as Nino studied the bags under his eyes. “Jesus Christ, how tired _are_ you?” Nino asked, lifting one hand to poke at the darkened skin. “Is that makeup or are those bags really that dark?”

“I’m...pretty tired,” Adrien confirmed. “I’m probably going to go pass out for, like, the rest of the day.”

“Good plan, dude. I don’t know what made you think working out for six hours on no sleep was a good idea, but whatever it was, do me a favor and never listen to it again.” Adrien winced as Nino released him.

“Sorry, again,” He said, eyes focused on the floor.

“You should probably only listen to me from now on. Since I have the best ideas ever,” Nino continued as if Adrien hadn’t spoken.

“Wait, what?” Adrien looked up, squinting suspiciously at Nino. “The best ideas ever? You tried to throw a house party at my dad’s house after you found out he forgot my birthday that one time,” He argued.

“Yeah, and that was a great idea!” Nino insisted.

“You didn’t even check to make sure he was out of town first!” Adrien laughed. “Who throws a house party but doesn’t check if the house is empty?”

“Hey, I said great _ideas_. I never said anything about execution.”

“Oh, yeah?” Adrien asked. “What about that time you tried to get Juleka to turn the fog machines into bubble machines instead of just _buying some bubble machines?_ ”

“How was that not a great idea!” Nino insisted, counting off reasons on one hand. “It would have saved her money, bubbles don’t cause asthma attacks, and we would have had bubbles, which look _awesome_ in neon lights-”

“Okay, first, putting a bunch of flying soap bubbles in an enclosed space is _never_ a good idea, and second, she had to spend _way_ more money fixing the crater your modified fog machine blew in the floor than she would have spent buying a bubble machine!”

“That’s it!” Nino declared, grabbing Adrien by the shoulders and shoving him towards his room. “I’ve had enough out of you, mister!”

“Nino, what, what are-” Adrien stammered through his laughter as his best friend herded him down the hallway.

“You’re going to go to your room, right now, no arguments-”

“You know I’m right!” Adrien exclaimed, leaning his weight back. “You can’t stop the signal, Nino!”

“Shut up! I’ve had enough of your back talk!” Nino struggled to move forward as Adrien dug his heels in. The combined weight of the gold bars and his limp body threatened to topple them both over as his shoes etched grooves into the hall carpet.

“ _Go_...to your... _room..._ what the fuck, why are you so heavy-” Nino panted as Adrien continued to laugh, leaning more of his weight back the longer Nino struggled.

“You know I’m right, you know I’m right,” Adrien sang mockingly, “I’m right, you’re wrong, your ideas suc- _woah!_ ”

Nino gathered all of his strength and gave Adrien one last forceful shove, sending him stumbling down the hall. He narrowly avoided smacking his face on the wall, managing to catch himself on the door frame just in time. He spun around and glared at Nino, who stood with one hand on his hip and the other pointing at the bed behind Adrien like an aggravated single mother.

“Bedtime!” Nino ordered. “Right now, young man!”

Adrien stuck his tongue out at him. Nino raised an eyebrow and started to tap his foot.

“You’re not the boss of me,” Adrien muttered petulantly. The corners of Nino’s mouth twitched like he was holding back laughter, but he remained unmoved. He lowered his pointing finger and rested both hands on his hips.

“I’m going to give you to the count of three,” Nino declared. Adrien rolled his eyes.

“That’s not gonna work on me,” He said. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the door frame.

“One.”

Adrien slouched more forcefully against the door, scowl firmly in place.

“Two.”

He resisted the urge to fidget. Nino’s lips twitched again. His foot stopped tapping, which was somehow more unsettling than when it had started.

“Two and a half,” Nino said menacingly. The urge to step back into his room was growing unbearable. “Don’t make me do it, Adrien.”

There was silence as the tension stretched. Adrien didn’t move.

Nino opened his mouth.

“Thr-”

“ _Goodnight!”_ Adrien cut him off, throwing himself backwards and slamming the door shut. He heard Nino burst into laughter immediately and couldn’t resist joining him, pulling his duffel bag off over his head and sliding down to sit against the door as he giggled uncontrollably.

“Your _face_!” Nino squeaked through the door.

“I’m, I’m _going to bed_!” Adrien called, completely failing to sound stern through his laughter. “Leave me alone!”

“Fine!” Nino called back, also failing to sound anything but delirious. “But you should know, you’re adopted!”

“WHAT!” Adrien shrieked, which set Nino off again. It took a few minutes for them to calm down, but they eventually did, their laughter slowly petering out.

“Night, dude!” Nino called once they’d stopped laughing, moving back towards his own room.

“Night, Nino,” Adrien answered him. He listened to Nino’s soft footsteps as he padded into his room and shut the door.

Adrien turned his head to study the bag sitting next to him, the boxy edges of the gold bars just barely visible where they distorted the canvas. He reached one hand out and unzipped it just enough to expose the leathery material of his suit. His lingering smile faded slightly as he reached in and fished around, eventually pulling out his ears with their severed sensor wire.

“That’s not great,” He said under his breath. He reached up and gently peeled off the sensor that was still stuck to the skin behind his ear, made useless by his mistake. Hopefully Hawkmoth would be able to procure him a new one.

Adrien stuck the censor to the inner part of one of his false ears and shoved both back into his bag. He zipped it closed and groaned softly as he pulled himself up, the exhaustion and the physical activity taking their toll on his abused muscles. He leaned down and shoved the loaded duffel under his bed, then turned to the window to close the blinds.

His breath caught in his throat as his eyes skipped over his desk and landed on a plain black envelope propped up against his reading lamp.

“No,” he said out loud, blinking furiously at the envelope like it might prove to be imaginary. “There’s no way.”

He cautiously moved closer to the desk, eyes darting around warily. He reached out one shaking hand and picked up the ominously placed stationary.

“There’s no way it already went through,” he muttered as he turned it over. “No way in--”

He felt his stomach plummet through the floor as he spotted the familiar wax seal on the back.

“Son of a bitch.”

Adrien turned around and dropped to his knees beside his bed, pulling his duffel back towards him and unzipping it to fish around for a glove. He pulled one out and slipped it on, channelling just enough power to extend his claws and carefully slicing open the envelope.

“This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening,” He chanted under his breath as he slipped the glove off and unfolded the letter.

_Chat Noir,_

_We have received your application to join the Evil League of Evil. On the advice of our illustrious leader, the League has decided to give you a chance. For your Application Act of Villainy, the League has decided that you must perform the following:_

_-A televised act of homicide_

_You have until two weeks from now to complete your Application. Failure to kill someone on live T.V. will result in your expulsion from the application pool, as well as the land of the living._

_You know too much, so we have to kill you. Sorry, we don’t make the rules._

_Oh, wait._

_Signed,_

_The Evil League of Evil_

Adrien shakily collapsed into his desk chair, the word _homicide_ echoing through his head. His glove hit the floor as it slipped through his nerveless fingers, the letter drifting after it as he cupped his hands over his mouth and tried to force down a sudden wave of nausea.

“Oh, God,” He breathed into his cupped palms.

“They’re going to kill me.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next update? n-next? as in, another chapter? uhhhh, well, um, you see-


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